


When You Get This

by palateens



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-17 21:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13667949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: He’s tired of wanting to fix something that can’t be fixed. His heart is broken. Maybe it should stay that way.





	1. Prologue

Kent runs into Justin at a party in Seattle. He didn’t expect to find himself there, let alone a familiar face. But he thinks it’s something like fate that draws them back here. His body seems to remember Justin before his mind does. The sea of chaotic, drug addled minds almost parts for them. 

Deafening music quiets the second he sees Justin in his perifery. Every bone in Kent's body is screaming for him to get up from the broken bar stool he's currently occupying. He imagines himself walking across the room, being greeted like an old friend or someone worth giving two shits about. He blushes, taking a long sip of the shitty wine the host thought elegant enough to serve at this glorified apartment party.

Kent closes his eyes, breathing in for five and then holding for seven. He can just forget he ever saw anything, he argues to himself. People who know each other miss accidental run-ins like this all the time. He just avoid Justin until the party gets lame...or until his ride wants to leave or he finishes his drink or— 

"Kent?" Justin's voice rings clearly in his ear. Justin's breath is warm against his neck. It makes Kent shudder.

He clears his throat, only offering Justin a quick glance and an amicable smirk. "Hey, long time no see."

Despite his mind screaming at him to play cool, he catches the faintest frown on Justin's face.    
"Hey, can we talk?" Justin asks.    
Kent chugs the rest of his drink. Because Kent is incapable of disappointing people, most of all Justin. He nods. He's pulled gently off his shitty barstool (more like pried from the dingy, red patent leather), and follows Justin to a relatively more quiet bedroom.

If Kent weren't in his current predicament, maybe he'd give two shits about whose bedroom this is and who still collects beanie babies like it's 1997. Then again, if Kent were anywhere but here, he'd probably be wishing he was here, staring at the back of Justin's freshly cut hair makes his stomach twist in knots. He wants to kiss Justin's sideburns and ask where his white cap is.   
There's a lot of things he wishes he could do right now.

He catches a glimpse of that rueful grin Justin always gives (gave) him after a long day. He kicks himself for letting his guard down for even a second. Kent plops down on the bed, gripping the comforter tightly between his knuckles.    
"So what's up?" Kent asks.

Justin leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. He still looks as beautiful as the day he left.    
"How are you?" He asks softly.    
Kent shrugs. "Fine."    
Justin watches him carefully. He stands still for a minute, and then two. Kent imagines he would be splitting in any other situation. If he weren't so desperate to take in the fact that Justin is  _ here _ , in front of him. Fuck, talking to him like he's someone that matters that's worth listening to that's worth— 

"Are you really?" Justin says awkwardly.

Kent takes a deep breath. "What do you want, Rans?"    
"I just wanted to check up on you," he says.

Kent shakes his head, walking toward the door until Justin cuts in front of him. If it were anyone else, Kent thinks he'd say 'fuck you' and kick them in groin to get them to move.    
"I don't...I don't know what you want to hear from me," Kent says.

"Just that you're doing ok."   
Kent takes a deep breath. "Ok I'm doing ok, now can I—”     
"Can we just talk about this like adults?" Justin asks.    
Kent snaps his mouth shut.

He shoves Justin gently out of his way, clasping the doorknob with one hand, brushing his fingertips of his other hand against the door.

He tries to look back, but his gaze meets the floor.

Kent breathes, blinking away tears.    
"I just...what did you expect me to say? That everything's fine? That I'm just magically ok even though you ripped my fucking heart out—”  

"I know," Justin says, reaching for Kent. "I'm sorry."

Kent shrugs away. He can’t hold Justin, and he can’t leave. Kent can’t beg him to love him again, and he can’t tell him not to talk to him. All he wants is for Justin to talk to him again. He’s trapped, caught between what he wants and what Justin needs. He’s essentially paralyzed in fear of fucking up even more than he already has. 

He’s tired of wanting to fix something that can’t be fixed. His heart is broken. Maybe it should stay that way. 

"You know I'd do anything for you," Kent says quietly.    
"I know."    
"But I can't if you won't let me."    
Justin shakes his head, trying to reach for Kent.    
"I'm sorry," Kent says.    
"For what?" Justin asks.    
His voice sounds hollow like the prayer Kent said after he realized Justin was never coming back.    
"I don't know," Kent says. "I don't know what I did wrong."

"Can we please talk about it? You deserve closure," Justin says. "We both do."

Instead of agreeing, Kent asks" Will you ever change your mind?"

Justin's silence is deafening. Kent takes it as all the answer he needs.    
"I can't do this," he admits. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Kent walks out of that bedroom, out of that dingy apartment, into the street where he wanders until his ride calls angrily wondering where he is. He makes excuses and says he'll catch up to them later. He wanders around the streets aimlessly because he simply doesn't care. Nothing could top the pain of losing Justin, a freshly reopened wound with no sign of stopping.


	2. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s the moon and more, so much more.

3 years ago

 

Kent comes back from his first shift at a new grocery store ready to keel over. He stumbles into their apartment, shucking his rain jacket off quickly as he kicks off his shoes. He’s bleary eyed from staring at a shitty register screen for too long. The record player in the living room is softly playing Solange.

Justin’s home, he thinks. That puts him more at ease than any thought he’s had all day. Justin’s really all he needs.

Kent finds him lounging in the living room, Kit burrowed into his side while he watches a Leafs intermission report. Justin sees him out of the corner of his eye. He tilts his head in Kent’s direction, motioning him to come join them. Kent’s heart skips a beat.

He isn’t used to being wanted, or even the subject of someone’s attention for that matter.

“How was work?” Justin asks as Kent sits down next his feet.

Kent’s weight shifts the couch slightly, disturbing Kit who decides to leave. He takes the opportunity to lie down next to Justin.

“Awful,” he admits.

“I’m sorry,” Justin says.

Kent shrugs. “It’s ok.”

“What was so bad about it?”

“This chick came right up to me and was like ‘I love your hair’ and just fucking yanked one of my curls,” he says.

Justin wrinkles his nose. “That’s gross.”

“Yea and she was fucking latin@ too,” Kent says with an exasperated groan.

Justin sits up. He opens up his arms, and Kent slips easily into his lap, burrowing his head into the crook of Justin’s neck.

“So what’d you tell her?”

“Nothing, it was so awkward,” Kent says. “And it’s not like she’s white.”

“Doesn’t mean she has a right to touch you like that,” Justin argues.

“I know, but it’s still new y’know? My hair curling like this and not being scared as fuck to just be me.”

Justin hums sympathetically. “I know, I’m sorry baby.”

“Don’t be,” Kent whispers, kissing his shoulder softly. “‘m just happy to be home now.”

Justin kisses his forehead. It feels safe with him. It feels like he’s finally found a home.

“Me too.”

 

_/.\\_

 

“My coworkers are being dicks again,” Justin says as he storms into their apartment one afternoon.

“Beer or tequila?” Kent shouts from the kitchen.

“Beer, I’m opening tomorrow.”

Part of Kent wants to argue that they could survive one morning without him. But he decides to put the issue on hold for a while. He walks into the living room with two cold beers and a readiness to confront any creeping anxiety Justin might have.

“Ok babe,” he says as he plops down next to Justin. “What happened?”

Justin takes a swig of his beer. “No one gives a shit about doing their job properly.”

“Right,” Kent agrees.

“I know most of these people are just working seasonal, but it makes my life ten times harder,” Justin groans.

“Fuck yea they do.”

“Marcus threw this hissy fit today about having to close when we have seasonals to do it,” he says.

“But they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing.”

“Exactly.” Justin drinks more beer.

Kent watches him savor every drop as he swallows. He doesn’t want to detract from letting Justin vent and address his problems. But seeing his adam's apple bob like that as he’s airing his frustrations does something to Kent. Justin breathing does things to Kent. What can he say? He’s a weak, useless bisexual.

When he’s finished with his bottle, Justin looks back at Kent. He blushes profusely. “I’m sorry, I’m being a downer.”

“Hey, don’t apologize for feeling shit.” Kent brushes his lips against Justin’s temple. “You have every right to feel however you need to. And I’m always here for you, alright?”

“Yea, thanks,” Justin whispers.

Kent shrugs casually. “‘s fine, honestly. You deserve to be like loved and validated.”

“You do too,” Justin says.

Kent gulps down half his beer. He doesn’t think he’s worth it. But he trusts Justin more than anyone in the world.

“Ok,” he says.

 

_/.\\_

 

“You know they’re gonna fuck him up in fan art right?” Kent says the day after they watch Luke Cage for the first time.

Justin groans. “Don’t remind me.”

Kent winces. “You’re right, sorry—”

“Kent, no, it’s fine.”

“You sure? You have to deal with white washing shit all the time.”

“Sure, but you get it...mostly,” Justin says.

“Mostly,” Kent agrees.

“Just like I mostly get transphobia,” he says.

Kent nods. “Yea ok, that makes sense.”

“Plus there’s colorism.”

“Which is the fucking worst and alive and well...everywhere basically,” Kent says.

“Yea,”  Justin shifts awkwardly.

Kent bites his lip. Mostly getting it isn’t the same as completely empathizing with someone. But there are things he can relate to about Justin’s life. Mostly, he can read when Justin wants a conversation to be over, despite his best attempts to be accommodating and understanding. Kent chastises himself. Justin shouldn’t have to try around him.

“Wanna see this video of a cat playing goalie?” Kent asks instead.

Justin’s grin is his entire world. It’s softer than a dandelion on a fresh spring morning.

“Give it here.”

 

_/.\\_

 

Four Years Ago

 

It’s one of the rare days they both have off. Kent’s elected to stay in bed for as long as physically possible, and Justin so far has graciously indulged him. They’ve been on the phone for hours, minding their own phones while their laptops are pointed at each other. It’s almost like they’re in bed together...almost.

“I had a dream about you last night,” Justin says.

Kent turns over to face him, putting his phone down. “Yea?”

“We were dancing in the kitchen, holding each other close,” he admits.

“That sounds amazing,” Kent whispers over the phone.

“Yea, I wish you were here,” he says.

“Same,” Kent says, sighing. “I wish…fuck, I wish a lot of things”

Justin perks up “What?”

“I wanna save up money, drive to pick you up and keep going until we hit LA,” he says.

The corner of Justin’s lip twitches slightly. “That sounds really good.”

“Maybe we’ll get there someday,” Kent says.

“When we have more money, maybe.”

“Ok, I’ll start saving.”   
“You don’t need to do that, baby,” Justin says.

Kent wants to tell him he’d cut out his own heart if that would make Justin smile. But he knows that’s too intense, and he knows he has a bad habit of idealizing people. But Justin’s the first person who’s ever looked at him like he’s worth a damn and made him believe. Justin is the air in Kent’s lungs.

He’s funny, charming, and has a warmth about him that fills every crevice of Kent’s life. He’s braver than he thinks, and one of the strongest people Kent knows. Justin’s the first full moon of spring—beautiful and brilliant with so much left to be discovered. He’s the moon and more, so much more.

“I want to,” Kent says instead. “You’re worth it.”

 

_/.\\_

 

Two Months Ago

He wakes up from another dream about Justin with tears streaming down his face. It was a good dream. They’re always good dreams because it’s _Justin_. The problem comes in waking up.

Kent has to learn life without Justin. It’s a slow process of rehabilitation, a crash course in life after love. Somedays, the grief eats away at him more than others. Mot of the time, he doesn’t miss Justin in big, swirling ways. It creeps in during the quiet moments, like a whisper of sorrow.

It’s there when Kent’s doing hair maintenance at night. It’s there when he hears a Solange song sneak it’s way into his queue, in the way half of his music lately are things that remind him of Justin’s love.

It finds him in the happy moments when Kent turns around to celebrate, and remembers Justin isn’t there anymore. It’s in the way his fingers tremble as he deletes another text he can’t send. It’s in the way he gets misty eyed when he wakes up every single morning and realizes Justin will never be coming back.


End file.
